Unforgotten
by Matilda384
Summary: Roger is taken away from the island. Roger is taken away from the other boys. All by himself in a clean white room, he sits; not knowing how to control, express, or identify his emotions. He needs the new people in his life to help him - and it isn't going to be easy.
1. Chapter 1

Roger looked back and forth between Jack and the naval captain. Jack didn't seem to know what to do; he was just standing there with his mouth open. Ralph was talking to the man all dressed in white, gesturing with his hands and crying hysterically. All of the littluns were bawling too. Roger reached over and took Jack's arm nervously. The officer kept looking at him. Jack put his hand over Roger's and watched as the man began approaching them. The littluns were all hugging each other now, wailing to the officer that they were sorry their appearances were so improper. He gently patted the boys' heads to calm them. But he kept coming towards Jack and Roger.

He stopped before the two older boys. Ralph stood behind him. "You're Jack?" he asked as he pointed to the redhead. Jack nodded slowly. He wasn't sure if he wanted to even be known as Jack anymore, after the things he'd done. The man turned his blue eyes to the dark-haired boy. "And you're Roger," It wasn't a question. Roger nodded slightly. The man reached for his small hand. More and more sailors were beginning to flood the beach, each taking a boy into their arms and welcoming them back to society. No one came for Roger. The captain tried to take him by the shoulder, but he flinched away and held onto Jack. A sailor stood behind the captain now, waiting for Roger. "He's very far gone. You can almost see it in his eyes." the captain told the shipmate. "From the things I've heard about him, he's going to need to go to St. Michael's for a long time. He won't even come when I call for him or try to touch him." The shipmate nodded understandingly. Jack seemed to comprehend what they were talking about. Roger didn't. A sailor in a blue uniform came for Jack, hugged him, and began taking him away. The redhead reached out for the captain. "Please! Please let me explain things to him! Just one moment, _please, sir!_" he cried out, tears leaking down his face. Roger screamed when he felt Jack's hand leave his own. The two men jumped back slightly, as if they were afraid of the small boy. The man in blue let go of the redheaded boy so he could go to his friend. Jack laced their fingers together once again just to get Roger to _stop screaming_. He put his head close to the dark-haired boy's. Roger was now crying because of the confusion and lost-feelings he was suffering from so suddenly. "Roger," Jack whispered. "You're going to go away for a little while-"

"Where?!"

"Shh, shh, shh…it's a nice little place called St. Michael's Institution, and they're going to-"

"Jack, I don't want-!"

"Roger, Roger…keep listening to me. Shhh…just be calm. It's going to be alright. They're going to take good care of you there and they'll be very nice to you-"

But Roger was already panicking. His breathing had quickened considerably and he was clawing at his own face. Jack struggled to keep him from being like this, though he knew he couldn't help it. Jack stroked the pale face that now had red lines running down it and hushed him gently. "It'll be alright, Roge. I'll visit you. I won't leave you. I won't leave you." he assured. Two men came and grabbed Roger's skinny arms. Roger lost it. He thrashed and kicked and screamed at the top of his lungs; screamed for Jack to save him. Everyone on the beach was staring. The twins held onto each other as they watched their tormentor suffer. Roger actually did manage to hit one of the men in the jaw, but it didn't get him far, because they then had to resort to wrapping his delicate frame in a tight binding cloth so he couldn't move his arms anymore. They began to carry him back to the ship. He screamed so hard for Jack. He begged. He sobbed. Jack watched him go, shouting, "I won't leave you! I won't leave you! _I won't leave you!_"

When the boys got on the ship, Roger was allowed nowhere near them. They didn't even see him at all after that. Each boy was given a shower that could last however long he liked, and they were all given a hearty meal. Jack felt an absolute pit in his stomach the whole time. He knew Roger was somewhere down in the bottom of the ship, being regarded as an animal, not getting any of the treatment they were receiving. He felt disgusting.


	2. Chapter 2

Roger sat on the bed that had clean white linens spread neatly over it. That man was coming in again. He knew it. He'd been at St. Michael's Institution for Mental Health for two days now, and under such close supervision that it nearly stifled him. Both days, the bald man would come in and sit on a chair and do nothing but watch him. And take notes. Often, Roger would sit on the bed, cross-legged, and stare straight back. The man would be a little confused, but he would keep writing. Other times, Roger would sit with his back to the man and just wait to hear the door click shut again.

Roger studied the blankets that were on the bed so neatly. He hadn't even used them. It had been one whole day, a night, and then another whole day without sleep. He just didn't want to slide under the sheets like he used to do. Because he had no one around to comfort him as he drifted off. So he vowed himself just not to ever fall asleep.

He heard the door click open softly and footsteps bring themselves inside. He kept his head down though, because he liked to get the man seated and poised to write before slowly raising his head and just staring at him with dark-circled eyes. He could always feel that initial fear that hit the bald man. He liked it.

Although it didn't sound like anyone was sitting down or flipping a page in a notebook. Whoever it was just stayed standing. Roger waited for a very long time for whoever it was to make to their presence known, but it became _too_ long. He did his usual raise of the head slowly. No one was sitting in the chair.

Instead, there was a person standing by the door. Someone dressed in white. He looked over. A young woman about the age of twenty-seven or twenty-eight was positioned by the door, hands folded in front of her, staring at him. He was slightly taken aback by this. But then he felt something sinister rise up in him. She was a woman. She'd be easy to scare off. He stared hard at her, trying to send as much fear into her bones as possible. The look on her face was gentle and patient-as if she were simply waiting for him to break and let her approach him. Both just stared at each other. Eventually, Roger did break. He pulled his legs close to his chest and rested his head on his knees, looking at the floor. She took a careful step-just one-and watched. The she took another. And another.

Sooner or later, she was standing right beside him. When she gently touched his shoulder, he jerked away. The woman waited for a few moments. "My name is Virginia. I'm going to be taking care of you special." she explained in a soft voice. "What's your name?" Roger planned on just not answering her. But he could tell by the way she was standing (and how much patience she'd just previously demonstrated) he knew he wasn't going to get far. Several minutes went by. Finally, he sighed. "R-Roger," he whispered hoarsely, his voice still tired from all the screaming just a few days ago. She smiled warmly. "Roger. Good, very good. It's nice to meet you, Roger." He wouldn't look at her anymore.

Roger knew that she was trying to get him to pull out that civilized behavior he had in him; greeting strangers, being polite, not hesitating, responding to questions. He just didn't want to right away. She stood before him quietly. "Roger, I'm here to help you." she said. Clearly, this wasn't in the script they'd probably given her, or the checklist of things she had to get him to do in order for them to proclaim him "normal". He shivered slightly as the words hit him. No one ever offered to help him. Ever. Why have someone try to start now? He gave a slight nod. She leaned down a bit. "You can call me Miss Ginny." Roger suddenly felt something stir inside of him. He liked how that sounded. It reflected how soft and sweet she seemed. Again, he gave a slight nod.

Miss Ginny stayed leaned down beside him. "I'm not going to hurt you," she explained. "Nor am I going to force you into things too quickly. That's where I need your help, alright? I need you to tell me how you're feeling about certain things so I can make adjustments when necessary. Because I truly want you to get better." Roger let out a sigh. He just kept hugging himself. Miss Ginny began to walk out of the room, letting him know that she'd be back in a few minutes. As the door clicked shut, Roger let the tears he'd been retaining fall down his face in streams.


	3. Chapter 3

It was later that same night, and Miss Ginny had come back as she'd promised. She brought Roger a plate of food, which consisted of a little bit of chicken, some mashed potatoes, and corn. Roger rejected it silently. She surprisingly didn't force him to eat any of it_. This is going to be too easy,_ the dark-haired boy thought. _She'll be broken soon enough. _The young woman stayed in Roger's room with him as the sun set, equally as quiet.

Once the sun went down, Miss Ginny turned on the lights in the room. She looked at Roger. "Are you sleepy?" she asked gently. He shook his head. Of course, he was lying. His eyes felt so heavy, and the bed looked incredibly inviting. But he didn't want to sleep unless he had someone right there beside him like on the island. Miss Ginny walked over to him. She leaned down. "Maybe you just need a little help relaxing. How about I give you a bath? It'll be nice and warm-you'll feel better instantly, I just know it." she explained. Roger thought about the offer. He'd only had one bath, and that was on the ship to get all the dirt and paint off before being admitted to this god-forsaken place. But he didn't want to give in to any authority just yet. He shook his head firmly. Miss Ginny smiled and put a hand on his back. "Come along, Roger." she instructed sweetly. Roger crossed his arms. "No." he said abruptly. She stopped. "But you'll feel so much-"

"I said no."

"Oh, but I'll make it nice and warm for you."

"You can't make me."

Miss Ginny stared for a moment, not in shock or disbelief, but in actual thought. "I was never going to make you, sweetie. I was just suggesting it. I just wanted to tell you how much better you'd feel after, and how the water would calm you. If you didn't want to, I wasn't going to drag you." she told him softly. Roger also gave this a lot of thought. She really didn't seem like she was making him. It was he who wanted to break her rules. There weren't even any rules to break. Miss Ginny stepped back and looked out the window. A very long silence passed.

Finally, Roger stirred. "Alright," he said. She turned to look at him, her honey hair gleaming in the light. "What did you say, sweetie?" she asked as she approached him. Roger sighed. "I'll take a bath." he rushed out the words. Miss Ginny gave him a warm smile. She helped him slip off the bed, took his hand, and looked away when he yanked it from her grasp. She led him silently down the hallway to the bathrooms. Roger noticed how many other women that looked like her were walking about, all wearing the same white shoes, white stockings, white dresses, white hats, and pink aprons. Occasionally a man would pass, but he would always be wearing a doctor's coat or reading a clipboard. Miss Ginny opened a door and brought Roger into a echoing room that had a tub in it and several counters. A big mirror lined the wall above the tops of them. As Miss Ginny readied the bathwater, Roger looked at his reflection in thought. They hadn't done a very good job of washing him on the ship. Come to think of it, they'd dunked him in some water and rubbed him a little because he'd been screaming so hard that they had to do a quick job to get it over with. No soap. No shampoo. He had streaks of dirt still around the edges of his face and jaw line. His hair was an absolute mess. His face was still stained very slightly with red, white, green, and black from his war paint. Miss Ginny turned to him. "It's ready now," she said. He drew back from her nervously, eying the tub of water. She put her fingertips in. "It's not too hot, sweetie. I promise. Do you want to feel it and make sure?" she asked kindly. He shook his head. Miss Ginny then knelt in front of him and began to carefully undo the buttons on the front of his pajama-like shirt.

Roger didn't like it. Nor did he want to stand for it. He jerked himself away and crossed his arms over his chest. Miss Ginny sat back on her heels. "Would you rather do it? That's fine by me. Take your time. We can always warm up the water if necessary." she told him. Roger waited a few minutes, just hugging himself, then undid the buttons again. He took off the pants that were much too long for him and avoided eye contact with the woman. She added some more warm water to the tub and helped him climb in.

The water wasn't cold at all. It was very warm. Soothingly warm. Roger relaxed his tense muscles which he realized for the first time ached. Miss Ginny smiled. "That's better, isn't it?" she cooed. She knelt by the tub, using a cup to gently pour water all over his shoulders and front part that wasn't already submerged. Roger seemed to like it. It felt good. She smiled the whole time. Every time she was going to do something different, she'd let him know first. "I'm going to wash your hair now, alright? The water's going to go over your head. You can hold your nose if you wish." she advised. Miss Ginny filled the cup with water and poured it all over his hair, getting it nice and soaked. She used a bottle of shampoo to rub suds all over his scalp. Some of the foam trailed down onto Roger's nose, which made him jump and instinctively start swatting at his face. Miss Ginny quickly used a washcloth to wipe it away, leaving the boy gasping for breath and nervously glancing around in case of more soap attack. She then rinsed his hair with clean water, making a swishing sound to calm him. He seemed to enjoy it. Once his hair was scrubbed, Miss Ginny massaged some soap onto a washcloth. She gently coursed it over his skin; murmured kind words to him.

After all the washing was over with, Miss Ginny rummaged through some of the counters and drawers. Roger peered over the edge of the tub intently. When she turned back around, she had her hands full of several items. She plopped them into the bathwater one by one. Every time she held one up, she'd tell her patient and act very excited about it. First was a yellow rubber duck. "Look at this, Roger! He floats-watch," she said as she set the toy in the water, giving it a gentle push toward the boy. He smiled. She held up a small orange ball next. "I bet this one bounces too," She tried to bounce it on the floor, but it didn't go far and ended up rolling a bit. Both laughed. The next toy was a little plastic ship. Miss Ginny held it up and began to explain it, but Roger had suddenly turned solemn. He stared at the ship with upset eyes. It almost looked like he was going to start crying. She stopped herself and put the ship on the floor beside her. Roger took the yellow duck in his hands and began to play with it, still looking a little down. He didn't want to think of ships. It brought back memories of the ocean. Of a reef. Of an island. Roger took to simply making the rubber duck dive under the water a few times.

After several minutes of just watching Roger play, Miss Ginny was back to smiling. She would always ask if he wanted the water to be warmed up a bit or if he needed any more toys. He'd at least answer her with a nod or shake of the head. It was better than when they'd started. Roger finished simply being a child, and looked up at her. She gave him a gentle smile and prepared a clean towel for him. After beginning to drain the water, she helped him climb out of the tub. He shivered when the air hit his damp skin. Miss Ginny threw him into a big fluffy towel and rubbed his shoulders as he was wrapped up in it. He smiled a little. "There, I'll bet you're all nice and warm now." she said. Roger nodded. She toweled the rest of his body off and gave him a clean set of the blue pajama-like clothes to change into, as well as a new pair of underwear. He asked her to turn around as he dressed. When he was finished, she dried his hair off with the towel. He looked so new. He felt so new. Miss Ginny carefully led him back to his room down the hallways.


	4. Chapter 4

The next task for the clean little boy was to have his hair brushed for the first time in nearly a year. Miss Ginny sat him on his bed and stood behind him with a comb and a hairbrush. She spoke calming words to him and she began to run the brush down the back of his head. Almost immediately it caught in a tangle. Roger arched his back and gasped. He pulled away from her and scrambled across the bed. He sat in the corner by the wall hugging himself. "Roger, sweetie." Miss Ginny cooed. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Oh, come here love. I'll be more gentle, alright? It's just that your hair is so snarly and tangled. Once we brush through it today, it won't ever hurt like this again, I promise." Roger stared at her, wondering whether or not she was being honest, and then slowly crept back closer to her. "Good boy," she murmured. She picked through the matted hair with the comb next to get the hairs apart.

It took near to three hours to get his hair completely untangled.

Roger was very sleepy by the time she was finished, but his mind wouldn't allow his eyes to close. It was racing and racing, never stopping long enough to form a thought that he could totally understand. His mind was still back on the island, endlessly running through the jungle. Miss Ginny looked at all the hair that had fallen out during the detangling. It probably could've given a bald baby an entire wig. Miss Ginny made note of this to put in her records of the boy, but she simply threw the clumps away into the garbage can. Roger's back was slumping. He looked exhausted. She gently leaned him down onto the mattress and pulled the covers back. Just as she was about to tuck him in, Roger sat bolt upright and hopped off the bed. He crouched in a defensive stance and stared at her fearfully. There was no way he was getting in that bed. She tried to catch him, but he started sniffling.

Sniffling meant that a fit was coming on.

Roger didn't like to cry. It made him look weak and he knew it. So instead of crying or feeling sad, Roger had taught himself to be angry and scream to cover up the tears. That's exactly what he did on the island-he even abandoned speech itself and communicated in a shriek or a savage call when dealing with the others. But not Jack. With Jack he used words. Roger watched as Miss Ginny tried to extend her hands to him. He started the screaming. She drew back a little, not sure why he was acting like this. "Roger!" she gasped when he held the garbage can over his head as if to throw it at her. When she covered her head with her hands, he froze.

Why was he doing this?

Roger looked around in shame and shock. He slowly lowered the garbage can and sat down on the ground. He drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them. The tears just fell now. No anger, no screaming. He felt sad, and that was that. He wanted to stop having outbursts like that, to be a normal boy, to have someone love him, to have Jack keep his promise about not forgetting him. Miss Ginny got down on her hands and knees and crawled over to him slowly so that she wouldn't be intimidating by standing over him. Roger hid his face from the woman. She gently wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. While he was shaking, he could feel that she was too. "It's alright," she whispered into his hair. "I'm here…I'm here…it's Miss Ginny. It's only me." She began to rock him slowly. Roger liked this feeling. He always enjoyed the feeling of being swayed back and forth. Miss Ginny did this for a long time.

Once they were both calmed down enough, she carried him over to his bed. While he sat on the mattress, Miss Ginny began measuring out a liquid into a teaspoon. She had the bottle in the pocket of her apron, and the little spoon had come from one of the high cabinets in the room. She held it out to Roger. "This is going to relax you," she explained in a whisper. "It'll make you fall fast asleep." Roger eyed it, knowing it wasn't going to taste good. "Roger, you need sleep." she continued shakily. "You're so tired, I can tell. You're completely exhausted. Oh, please just take this. It's for your own good." Roger felt so awful. He'd scared her. It was what he'd intended to do in the first place, but after she'd shown him so much kindness…he didn't want it to be like this. He leaned forward a little and opened his mouth. Miss Ginny put the spoon in slowly and withdrew it from his lips. Roger swallowed the bitter medicine and shuddered.

After cleaning up, Miss Ginny tried laying him down once more. She pulled the covers over his body gently. Roger felt so limp, yet very good too. He felt like his mind was slowing down a bit. She tucked the blankets around him and made sure he was comfortable. His eyes closed. For the first time in weeks, he was falling asleep happy. For the first time in days, he was actually falling asleep. Miss Ginny bent down and lovingly kissed his pale cheek. Roger could see in his mind: his own self running through the jungle nonstop, then simply jogging, coming out of the jungle, slowing to a sprint…stepping carefully over some rocks…walking…sitting down on the edge of a rocky cliff…staring down at a boulder that was now resting in the waves.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been days since Roger had eaten anything at all, and Miss Ginny was beginning to worry. She feared that if he didn't eat anything soon, he'd faint or at least have his weight significantly drop from its already low point now. She was determined to find something he'd like, even if that meant multiple trips to the kitchen or enduring several fits in the process.

One morning she brought in some eggs and bacon. Roger crossed his arms over his chest and pulled away stubbornly.

For lunch, she carried in a tray consisting of a glass of juice, some grapes, and a chicken salad sandwich. Roger stared hard at the food, then scowled and backed away from it.

At dinnertime, Miss Ginny brought in a warm plate of ham and potatoes. She sat on the bed before him, knowing that it smelled _so good_ that he'd have to break and just eat it already. But he only whimpered as he gazed at it. He eventually started crying. Right there in front of her. Miss Ginny was awfully confused, and took the tray away from his bed. She sat before him, taking his small frame onto her lap and rocking him gently. He was sobbing unintelligible words to himself, sometimes sputtering over his tears, sometimes just wailing. She kissed the top of his head. "Roger," she murmured. "Sweetie, what's the matter? Why are you crying?" He didn't answer her. He just kept moaning and crying. "Darling, what can I do to make it better?" she tried again. This time, however, she did get a response. He sniffled and tearfully whimpered,

"N-No…meat…"

Miss Ginny cradled him until he calmed down enough to only sit on his bed and sniffle with an occasional hiccup from breathing hysterically. She promised to come back as she was leaving the room. Roger hugged himself as he sat up near his pillow and rocked back and forth. _God, _did he hate this place. He wiggled his toes as he looked down, thinking about how much he wanted to run, how it would be so wonderful to just leave, how clean and new he felt right then and there. That last thought confused him-he was the one who'd protested a bath and new clothes and clean underwear. He was the one who wanted to scare Miss Ginny away. But he suddenly realized that he liked her too much, and that it wouldn't be better out there. Alone.

Miss Ginny returned, carrying another tray of food. Roger shrunk back against the bed frame even more and squeezed his eyes shut. She chuckled a bit, then took her usual spot on the edge of his bed. She carefully set the tray down. "I think you'll like this much better, love." she murmured. Roger opened one eye to see what horrendous morsel she'd forced in front of him. He was instantly surprised. On the tray was a steaming bowl of soup. It wasn't that clear nasty broth that his mother used to make him swallow whenever he was sick (which was often), but a creamier whitish-yellow with little green specks on the top. He curiously eyed it, waiting for his nurse to explain things to him. "It's potato soup. There's some boiled potato in there, along with cheese and hot milk. I think you'll like it," she said softly. Roger looked up at her with dark-circled eyes. "No meat?" he rushed quickly. She shook her head. "None at all, deary."

Roger slowly picked up the spoon with his fingers (he'd spent so long on the island and protesting civilized food here that he almost forgot how to use the utensil) and dipped it into the bowl. When he drew up a small amount, he raised it took his lips and took a bite. It was _scathing_ hot. Roger threw the spoon and clawed at his mouth as the burning singed his tongue. Miss Ginny hurriedly tried to calm him. She held the glass of cold water to his lips and guided it into his mouth. Finally, the inferno on his tongue cooled. He retreated even farther from the soup. Miss Ginny picked up the spoon and dipped it into the bowl herself. She blew gently onto the spoonful until the steam went away. As she held it up to Roger, he was reminded of the wonderful taste of that blend of food (beside the fiery temperature) and was tempted to bite. She smiled warmly. "I cooled it off for you. It shouldn't be too hot. Go ahead and take a bite for me," Roger did as he was told.

He actually sort of liked her feeding him. It was a good feeling-like someone was actually trying to take care of him. They liked taking care of him. Spoonful by spoonful, the two laughed and eventually finished the whole bowl. She praised him for being such a good boy. Roger smiled and put his hands on his stomach as he leaned back against the wall. Miss Ginny laughed once more. "How do you feel now, love?" she asked. Roger grinned even bigger. "Tummy's warm." he said. She reached out and tickled his thin little stomach, causing him to giggle and squirm around. Miss Ginny moved the tray over to the bedside table and began tucking Roger under the blankets. "You should go to sleep early tonight. You awoke pretty early this morning, right?"  
"Five-thirty,"  
"Alright, _very_ early then. We'll get you all snuggled in and drifting off to sleep in no time, alright?"

Miss Ginny poured out more of that sleep medication and had Roger sip it. He still hated the taste and how it made his body feel, but he also liked falling asleep. It had been so long since he'd had a restful night of sleep. But here, with Miss Ginny, he could get that whenever she gave him that medicine. That was a plus. As she turned the lights down and kissed his cheek, she began to leave the room. Roger sat up rapidly, his head swooning with the impending thing called sleep, and cried out, "Miss Ginny!" She returned to his bedside, taking his small hand into hers lovingly. "Yes, sweetheart?"  
"Can you…can…just…will you stay with me?"  
"I'll never leave you-"  
"I mean as I fall asleep?"

Miss Ginny looked into those troubled gray eyes. She nodded. "Of course, darling." she whispered. "Anything that will help you." Roger laid back down, holding onto her hand tightly. She curled up beside him and tenderly stroked his silky black hair. His eyes closed. Even when she was certain he'd fallen asleep, Miss Ginny remained by his side, gently brushing her fingertips over his cheek and watching that flawless little face twitch in dreamland...

Wishing that she could someday have a child just as sweet.


	6. Chapter 6

Roger curled up on the bed as Miss Ginny tidied up the room as usual. Something inside him was making it hard to stay awake. He watched as she dusted the corners of the ceiling with that silly feather thing she always cleaned with. Roger longed to touch it again someday. He'd been caught running his bony fingers through the black feathers once; Miss Ginny didn't scold him for it, only informed him that it wasn't clean and was probably full of dust which would make him sneeze. The desire to just hold one of those things (which he didn't know the name for) and play with its softness got to him every time she brought the thing out.

Something felt like it dropped in the pit of his stomach. His head swooned. Roger let out a whimpery-moan to get his nurse's attention. He still wasn't good with words yet. She ran to his side, stroking his face lovingly. "What's the matter, my love?" she asked. He put a hand on his stomach. "Ow…" he murmured as he squeezed his eyes shut. She pushed his shirt up a bit and felt his skinny stomach. "It hurts?" she inquired.

"A lot,"

"When did it start hurting, darling?"

"When I woke up. Just got bad now."

"Do you feel like you're going to throw up?"

"Yes…"

Miss Ginny eased him out of his balled-up stance. She tucked him under the covers of his bed. "I'll get the thermometer so we can see if you're running a fever." she told him. Roger groaned in pain. She removed the glass trinket from the cabinet and put it under his tongue. He closed his lips. She counted on her wristwatch the appropriate amount of time to get it to read accurately. When she withdrew it, she let out a slight tsk. "You're definitely fighting something." she commented.

Roger closed his eyes droopily. He felt awful. Miss Ginny poured out a spoonful of some new medicine which smelled strongly of artificial cherry. Roger would've refused, except for the fact that he felt so weak and just wanted to get better. He accepted the nasty stuff, although tempted to spit it out in a big red spray to cover the harsh white walls, bed, floor. But he didn't. And he didn't know why. Miss Ginny gave him a second spoonful to reduce the pain next. He also had to swallow a pill. She instructed him to stay in bed while she went and got him a washcloth and some supplies to doctor him up.

Roger patiently awaited her return, holding his sore tummy which looked more like he was hugging himself. When she reentered the room, she had a whole cart full of supplies: a bowl (in case he started throwing up and couldn't make it down the hall to the bathroom), a warm, dampened washcloth to be placed gently across his forehead, a glass of some bubbling soda for easing his upset stomach, and then finally…_the thing_. Roger's eyes widened a little when he saw it resting there. His jaw dropped when she handed it to him. "This one's clean; brand-new, no germs. I figured they wouldn't mind if I took it so you could have something to play with. After all, I still believe that you're a child. And children should have toys no matter where they happen to be. So for now, this was the best I could do for you, baby." she explained.

Roger ran his pale fingers through the soft feathers of the thing. This one was even softer than the one Miss Ginny used to clean. Probably because it was new, he figured. The soft wispies tickled his cheeks as he brushed his face with it, absorbing it's beautiful silkiness. "T-Thank you…" he whispered. Miss Ginny turned around. It was the first time he'd formed a sentence of gratitude on his own. It wasn't an answer to a previously asked question, or a hand signal, or a savage sound. It was thankfulness. Expressed from his very own mind, his heart. She went to him and kissed the top of his head. "You're welcome," she mouthed, choked with tears at this extremely progressive moment. Roger kept running his fingers through the thing adoringly.

After a very long time of silence (Miss Ginny reading a book in the room, Roger playing with the thing), she checked his temperature again. As she waited for the mercury to move, she chuckled. "Look at my little one; amused by a feather-duster." Roger swiftly turned his head to look at her, eyes wide. He pointed at it questioningly. "Yes, the feather-duster." she said. "Did you not know its name?" He shook his head. This actually caused her to laugh. "Goodness, you should've asked! What were you calling it to yourself all this time?"

"…The thing,"

Miss Ginny wiped tears from the corners of her eyes as she laughed so hard. "The _thing?_" she repeated. Roger broke a small smile. He didn't laugh like she did, or chuckle, but he did smile at her. He continued petting the thing. He decided he'd keep calling it that - it was easier to remember. Miss Ginny picked up its wooden handle and made it tickle his face, causing him to grin wider. He took the handle next and tried to tickle her face playfully. This was good, this was all good. He was interacting. He was copying another human's actions. He was mimicking normality. Miss Ginny kept accurate record of all this to write down later in his files.

Roger's temperature still proved to be a little on the high side, but the soda and medication eased his tummy. He felt a lot better. But he still wanted to stay in bed because the fever was wearing him down quite substantially. Miss Ginny spooned him more sleeping medicine and held his hand as she always did since he vocalized his desire to be watched until he fell asleep. As she left the sleeping little boy in his bed, she couldn't help but chuckle when she saw that he'd fallen asleep cuddling the feather-duster under his arm.


	7. Chapter 7

Roger heard the door click open as he stirred awake. Rain gently pattered on his window outside, and he couldn't wait to open his eyes and see his kindly nurse. He wanted to tell her that he slept fully throughout the night, even with the insane man in the next room over screaming. Roger sat up and rubbed his eyes. When he looked, he felt his breath hitch. Another woman was walking into his room. It wasn't Miss Ginny. This woman was rather full, and had dark brown hair framing a sagging face. She looked unpleasant. Roger whimpered internally and drew the blankets closer to him.

The woman wordlessly went to the counter and began preparing something. Roger anxiously watched. Usually Miss Ginny walked in with a tray of breakfast for him; this woman did not seem inclined to do so. She turned around. In one had was a small damp cloth, the other, a needle. Roger's eyes widened. He panicked in his mind. The woman began approaching with saying a single word, and when she got to him, she yanked the sleeve of his shirt up. Roger whimpered and pulled away. This woman was gruff. She fought with him for a bit, pulling him roughly and eventually pinning him flat onto his bed. She rubbed the cloth on his bared arm and readied the needle. Roger had no choice but to resort to his old ways.

He screamed.

The woman hollered, but he wasn't sure if it was at him or just in frustration. He was so scared. He could immediately tell that for whatever reason, Miss Ginny wasn't around and she wouldn't save him from this menace. Two more nurses ran into the room, all of which took his limbs and held him down. One clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle his screams. "Shut up!" the large nurse yelled. Roger tried thrashing and kicking and biting that horrid hand, but he felt the needle sear pain right through his arm. He cried harder and louder, screaming the only name he could think of. "Jack! Jack! Jack!"

Why he was screaming for the redhead that hadn't even come to visit him like he promised, he didn't know. Maybe it was because Jack was the one that had protected him from his own pain, yet still allowed him to inflict it upon others. Maybe it was because Jack knew how to channel the pain that he did feel. Maybe he just missed his friend's comfort. He didn't know.

When the three nurses released him, Roger sprang at them. He felt especially feral and rabid at that moment. He clawed at their dresses, knocked one to the floor, shrieked as he hit her over and over. The large, rough nurse picked him up and held him high over her head. "Get a doctor!" she shouted at the other one, who hurried out of the room. Roger struggled as hard as he could to just get _out_ of her clutches. But it was a losing battle. He couldn't fight her.

A doctor came in, all dressed in his white lab coat. "Roger!" he shouted. Roger didn't like the sound of a man's voice. He stopped his fit to glare the man down. The doctor looked around at the mess of the room, the mess of the woman on the floor. He gave one nod. "Take him to the shocks," he ordered. The women took a tight piece of cloth and wrapped it around his body again. Roger kept screaming. Now he was scared out of his mind. What were they doing to him? Where were they taking him? Why wasn't Miss Ginny anywhere to be found?

They brought the hysterical boy to a very cold, dark room, where they took the tight cloth off of him but shut the door. The same doctor was waiting there as well. There was a chair. The chair had lots of attachments to it, and Roger recognized it as something he'd once read out of a horror book. The women forced him into the chair. They put a bar over the open part so he couldn't get out. Each started to work on him, removing his pajama-like clothes so that he was sitting in just his underwear. They put cuffs around each wrists that were stuck to the arms of the chair, same with his ankles. The pair began sticking dots onto his bare chest and stomach - dots that had wires attached to them.

Roger looked at the doctor, horrified. The man stepped in front of him menacingly. He bent down. "You've been very bad, little boy." he said softly. "Hurting people on purpose is a very bad thing. You need to learn that." Roger's breathing was staggered from fear. "…Miss…Miss Ginny…?" he asked shakily.

"She's not in today. She called out sick. _You _made her sick. She had written in your files that a few days ago, you had a fever and a stomachache, right? Well, apparently she caught it from you. All you had to do was be a good boy and cooperate with the substitute nurse, but you couldn't."

"She…wasn't kind…"

"Roger, the world isn't kind. And I'm not sure Miss Ginny is allowing you to realize that. She keeps you in a bubble - a safe, happy bubble. It's not like that, Roger. The world isn't like that."

"B-Believe me…I know…"

"And yet it seems you don't know. Because _you're_ unkind. You're a monster. Striking down a nurse like that and continuously beating her - Roger, you are nothing but a _beast_. The only way we're going to break you of that behavior so that you may return to society normal…is if you're punished for your actions."

Roger didn't have time to respond. What the doctor had said chilled him; he'd called him a beast. Images of terrified little boys huddling together at night, talking about a beast in the forest, flooded his mind. He remembered Jack compelling everyone to kill the beast. He remembered one of the twins screaming to the heavens during torture that he was a monster. He remembered a small, dark-haired boy that looked up at him with eyes of absolute terror when the realization dawned that the beast…really _was _one of them.

The doctor and the nurses went to a corner of the room where there was a whole table full of buttons. They talked amongst themselves. Then, the doctor pressed down on a button.

The pain was nothing short of absolutely excruciating.

Roger screamed harder than he ever had. It was worse than any other pain he'd ever experienced, and there definitely were some unrelenting times. The pulse of electricity stopped after a few seconds. The doctor shouted. "Be civilized!" He pressed the button again. "Learn your place!" He hit it again. "Do not rebel against authority!" He slammed on that bloody button. "Act like a normal citizen!" Roger wished the electricity would just kill him right then and there.

At the end of the torture, they dragged him back to his room and threw him inside - no tucking into bed, no tenderness. They literally tossed him onto the floor of his room and shut the door.

Roger laid on the ground, unable to move. Every inch of his entire body ached horribly. His muscles kept twitching and were weak from the strong electric currents. He felt like jelly. An aching blob of jelly. His throat hurt from screaming, his tummy was hungry, he felt absolutely (and literally) fried. Face down on the cold floor he laid, crying and screaming on the inside, yet nearly paralyzed on the outside.


	8. Chapter 8

Miss Ginny cheerfully greeted the receptionist at the front desk as usual, and received the same grunt of a reply. She went to the clipboard to sign in and immediately to the file cabinet where she searched for her special little patient's records. She was so happy to be back at work. Not only did she love her job of helping people who had no hope get better, but she loved her new special assignment to be the nurse to such a wonderfully interesting young boy. She flipped through the pages of his file and read about the written report from the previous day.

Her eyes widened as they read.

She clenched the file firmly and flew down the hallway, stopping the doctor that had 'treated' Roger the day before. She grabbed his arm forcefully and whirled him around. Miss Ginny waved the folder in his face. "What did you do to him?" she asked in angry panic. The doctor rolled his dull eyes. "You don't understand him, Virginia. He's dangerous. He won't ever be civilized until we break him."

"I think I know him better than just about anyone."

"You treat him as if he is a child."

"Because he is a child! A twelve-year-old little boy!"

"He's a monster! I had to send Martha to the hospital yesterday in an ambulance after that thing attacked her! She needed stitches! She's recuperating at home today because of your 'twelve-year-old little boy'! Is that how you want him to stay? Suppressing those feelings of absolute monstrosity, giving him the illusion that he's getting better, then release him into society where he'll realize that he _is_ still capable of doing the terrible things he does?! Is that what you want, Virginia?!"

"Don't you tell me about how I handle my patient! I know what he needs because I'm close to him!"

"Never talk to me like that again! Learn your place, woman!"

"I'm not finished yet! Do you really think that giving him shock therapy and torture is going to get those feelings out of him? Don't you think that it only makes him angrier and more apt to explode?!"

"_You_ are a nurse and _I_ am a doctor! I will decide the correct treatment for my patients before anyone else! And if he should be reassigned to another nurse, hm?!"

Miss Ginny's breath caught. She stared at the red-faced man in horror, anger, and hopelessness. He swiftly turned his back. Miss Ginny hugged the file close to her, then turned and ran down the hallway, tears starting to leak down her face. She didn't stop until she reached the door that held her little boy inside. She pressed her forehead against the wood, finally letting out her sobs that she'd been restraining. She knew Roger wasn't a monster. He just wasn't. He was a lost little boy that had seen so much hate and cruelty in his life that it devastated him to the point of insanity. Miss Ginny put a hand over her eyes as she finished her crying. She wiped her eyes, dabbed at her face with a handkerchief, and turned the handle on the door.

Roger was laying on the floor facedown, feet pointing at the door. His eyes were open, but their usual brilliant gray had faded to a color that looked like cloud heavy with rain. The crescents under his eyes were even darker than usual. His lip twitched a bit, giving the appearance that he was talking to himself. Miss Ginny gasped when she saw him. She ran to his side, gingerly touching and stroking his face, telling him that everything was alright. She carefully scooped his weak frame into her arms and carried him to the bed. His body was so incredibly limp. After setting him down all propped up against the pillow, she tucked the blankets close to him and kissed his cheeks. He seemed completely lost. "Roger," she whispered. "Roger say something. Please speak to me. Oh, please just say anything. Please…" He didn't respond to even her voice. Miss Ginny took one of his fragile hands and cried onto it, begging him to forgive her and just _say something_ that would reassure her that he was alright. She felt his fingers twitch. It was the kind of sensation of him giving her hand a quick, gentle squeeze. She looked up.

Roger's eyes were fixated off into space, his lower lip trembled, his skin was an icy pale. Miss Ginny touched his cheek. "Baby," she whispered. "Listen to me, my love. I'm not going to leave you again. I promise I won't. Oh, darling. Never. I won't let anyone else have you. That will never happen like that again. I promise. Oh, Roger…I promise." Roger gave the soft pulsation again as tears began to fall from his eyes.

It took hours before Roger was alert enough to talk a bit. It turned out that they'd given him the shock therapy and thrown him into his room, but he was too weak to even get up and lay in bed. Nobody had come to check on him. Nobody had brought him a thing to eat. He literally laid in pain on the cold floor for nearly twenty-four hours.

Miss Ginny cradled him in her arms and rocked him. "T-They…said you were babying me," Roger whimpered. "And they said…if I didn't behave, they'd take you away from me…Miss Ginny…please don't let them do that."

"I would never let that happen, baby. I promise."

"It was…my fault you g-got sick yesterday."

"No, no…of course not darling. Who told you that? I woke up with a slight fever and when I called my lover, he said he'd come over and take care of me. When he got to my apartment, he called work for me and said I wouldn't be coming. I just didn't feel up to anything."

"…D-Did he take good care of you?"

"Oh, yes he did. He's wonderful."

"What did he do?"

"He made me some soup and had me stay in bed; if I was going to take a nap, he'd lay with me right there so we'd both fall asleep. He cooled down my forehead, brought me blankets, everything."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes, I do very much."

"Does he love you?"

"Well of course he does. We've been dating for three years now. He tells me everyday."

Roger fell silent. He looked at the precious feather duster in his hands. "I want to meet him someday," he murmured. Miss Ginny nodded. A smile broke across her face. "Alright, sweetie. I think he'd love that. I tell him all about you." she answered. She thought of something, then took his tiny hands into hers. "Roger, I feel that I need to tell you…you're going to get more treatments like yesterday's. I tried to stop them, but they were insistent. But I'll be here every time. I'll make it hurt less. Alright? You won't be alone anymore. And every time you have to go through that torture, I'll have a treat for you after. How does that sound? Something different every time. That way you'll at least have something to look forward to."

Roger nodded. He loved his nurse so much for everything she'd done. And yet she still hadn't given up on him. Everyone else in the world had, but not her. She promised to stay with him no matter what. Roger let out a happy sigh. He didn't feel like such a beast whenever she treated him like a such a human.


	9. Chapter 9

Roger was sitting on Miss Ginny's lap as they read a book together. When she first brought up this idea, he rejected it because it was so young and childish. But after she begged him to just give it a try, he realized he didn't mind it so much. It was comforting, having someone hold him as he turned the pages to a book. Even at twelve years old, Roger was still enchanted by the grip that love held over him when someone showed him that much kindness. The general idea of doing this activity was to get Roger to speak sentences and words strung together instead of just short bursts of conversation. She would have him read a random sentence aloud to her, making sure he said all of the words and understood the sentence. It was a kind of speech therapy that she'd concluded he would be better off having. She figured it would speed the process of his recovery, simultaneously preparing him for the real world.

Roger knew that she was trying to accustom him to touch again - trying to get him not to flinch every time there came a sudden sound or sensation on his skin. He knew that exposing him to gentleness first would therefore open him up a bit to whatever would come. He knew that she wanted him to speak like a civilized little boy again. He knew that all Miss Ginny was trying to do was to adjust him naturally, rather than the way that horrible doctor proposed to do it. She rocked him gently as he read the words on the page. He felt completely and peacefully at ease.

There came a knock at the door, causing Roger's head to snap up, but his body didn't give its usual twitch. Miss Ginny proudly noted this little achievement in her mind. She shifted him off her lap and climbed off the bed. She opened the door slightly. After a few seconds of deliberation between her and this mystery person, Roger heard someone enter the room. Miss Ginny approached him again. "You have a special visitor today," she whispered, trying to sound excited so he would be too. Roger weakly pawed at her, as if asking her to stay near him so he would be protected from whoever this 'visitor' was.

When Jack Merridew walked into the room, Roger was absolutely stunned.

Miss Ginny kissed the top of his head. "I'll be waiting right outside the door, alright sweetie? You call me if you need me." she assured. Miss Ginny stepped lightly outside and shut the wooden door. Jack seemed just as speechless as Roger. He took a seat in the metal chair near the counter and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. His foot tapped anxiously. Roger found 'the thing' and began twirling its feathers in his fingers to soothe himself. He could feel his heart beating a million beats per minute. A long silence passed. A very long silence. Then, Jack spoke. "Hi, Roger." he said. Roger just studied him. His ability to speak and make sentences - all that speech therapy he'd undergone with Miss Ginny - had flown out the window.  
"I told you I wouldn't forget about you." the redhead continued. Roger looked away.  
"We miss you in choir. The boys and I, that is. We started up again just this week. Oh, we all went back to school last Wednesday. Everyone in class calls us heroes and stuff - it's kind of a nice feeling."

Jack laughed. Roger frowned and looked up at him. How could he possibly enjoy being called a hero, when really they were all murderers? When Jack realized Roger's lack of reciprocation, he cleared his throat and went back to silence again. Roger decided it was maybe time to speak for himself. "Call you heroes?" he asked.

"Yes, that's right. All the boys do. Everyone in class. Sometimes even the teachers do too. They ask to talk about our survival in class sometimes, and everyone loves the stories."

"I bet you don't tell all."

"…W-What?"

"You don't tell them about the warpaint or the chants. You don't tell them that two boys are _dead_ - that one of them was in your choir. You don't tell them that _we_, you included, killed him. You don't tell them that one of us is locked up behind a door, hidden from society, because he's an absolute monster. He's dangerous. He's insane. No. You only talk about the bravery of hunting pigs for survival. You only tell them about the marvelous inferno you created - the one that got us all rescued. You only tell them about the conch, and the chiefs, and the meat, and the fire, and shelters, and the beauty of that island, because _that's_ what makes you a hero. But you don't tell the whole truth. You don't tell them about me. Or Piggy. Or Si- …or _him_."

Jack stared at Roger with an open mouth. The dark-haired boy could tell that he didn't know what to say. For once, Roger wasn't the speechless one. He went back to stroking 'the thing tenderly', as if it were the only thing that mattered. He didn't know why he was angry at Jack, but he was. Maybe it was because he came in blatantly talking about the island - something Miss Ginny never allowed anyone near Roger to mention due to its sensitivity. Maybe it was because he was back to his old ways of exemplifying himself to everyone because he was so bloody self-centered. Maybe it was because Roger just saw it all for the first time with clean eyes. At the time he was stranded on the island, he was troubled; things were bad at home, he was hurt a lot, ignored, teased, rejected. He was desperate for anyone that would just set him free and show him friendliness. Which is what Jack Merridew had done: he'd taken him under his wing right off the bat and gave him kindness. And when Jack ran off to start his own tribe, Roger was afraid of being alone again. So he'd followed. Like a puppy. He wasn't anyone's puppy anymore.

Jack nervously shuffled his feet. "I'm sorry, Roger. I didn't realize that you were still sensitive about all that." he murmured.

_Sensitive_ to that?! Jack, I'm in a bloody mental institution! I'm sensitive to everything that threatens me! I feel safe with Miss Ginny. She protects me from the evil while still making me aware of its presence, so that one day I can do the same all on my own! What we did on that island was devil's work, Jack. You may be feeling like a hero since you were the one that got us rescued, but I may never forgive myself. Sure, I'll learn to live with it and move on with my life. But it won't go away. I'll _never_ forgive myself."

"…Roger…you…talk like your being here is a _bad_ thing - "

"What is it, then?! I'm unstable, Jack! I can't control my emotions at all! I'm unpredictable! I can't even identify what I'm feeling! I don't know the words to describe it! Jack, I couldn't even speak when I first got here - I would only moan and grunt and make savage calls because I just didn't _know_ how to be civilized! I still can't do anything by myself. I'm completely dependent on another person because I have such deep, _serious _trust issues! You think it's good that I'm here?!"

Roger started crying. He knew he was overwhelmed with emotion, but what kind? Anger? Sadness? Devastation? Disappointment? Jack held the silence for a long time again. It was nearly ten minutes before anyone spoke.

"Roge, if it makes you feel any better…I'm seeing a therapist."

Roger looked up through teary eyes. Jack nodded gravely. "It's not like I just put it behind me without a care. I cry every single night. I have nightmares. Sometimes I can't even uncurl myself from my sheets in the morning to actually go to school, because I'm terrified something's going to get me. It left a toll on all of us. You're not alone. And don't think…" It was Jack's turn to get tearful. "Don't think that we…don't think about you in choir rehearsals. Before we start…every day…we pray for you. That's the truth." Roger looked down. Nobody ever prayed for him before. He heard Jack stirring, and suddenly felt a weight settle on the bed beside him. Jack wrapped his arms around the small boy's body. "It was so…_hard_…to have everyone move down in their rows to fill Simon's spot. It was even harder to readjust them to fill yours." he whispered. Roger squeezed his eyes closed at just the mention of that name. He heaved in a big sob. Both boys sat there, holding each other, crying in complete devastation.

Jack held Roger away for a moment and studied him with wet eyes. "Look at you," he sniffled, trying to smile. "Look at how good she's taking care of you. That's why you were put here. So you could see that people do care about you. Everyone does. We…miss you." Roger cradled the thing in his arms again. "I don't get any toys," he whispered. "Anything that has buttons or plastic or something hard on it, we can't have. Because they're afraid we might hurt ourselves. Miss Ginny says that if I start showing improvement…she'll sneak me some things to play with during the day."

"And look at you - you're doing better. You're talking now. When I first came in, they told me you were only starting to make sentences. But see? You've talked to me in complete sentences this whole time without even realizing it. Pretty soon you'll have a whole roomful of toys."

"I feel so…young. So _little_. I have to have an adult do everything for me; get me food, bathe me, clothe me, brush my hair, put me to sleep, rock me, teach me - it feels strange."

"It's called being a child, Roge. You never had that even when you were little. You…had to grow up fast."

Roger felt a chill rush through him at those words. He realized it was true. He didn't have a childhood. Once again, Jack Merridew was right. He threw his arms around the redhead again. They stayed like that for a long time, hugging and crying. In fact, it was so long, Miss Ginny reentered the room to check on them. Jack let go of him and patted his head. "I'll be back again. I promise. I didn't forget about you before, and don't think for a minute that I ever will." he whispered. Roger nodded. His face was complete soaked with tears, and the whole front of his shirt was damp. Jack left the room.

When Miss Ginny reassumed her position on the bed, she hugged her little boy. "So," she said cheerfully, yet with a hint of uneasy in her voice. "How did it go?"  
"Well," Roger whispered, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Very well,"

Miss Ginny kissed the top of his head. She opened up the book where they'd left off and read _to_ him instead, knowing that she was doing her job correctly because from her place listening through the wood of the door, she'd heard him speak in full and complete sentences the whole time he had his visitor.


	10. Chapter 10

Miss Ginny carried her limp little boy back into his room and laid him in the bed. His limbs were slightly shaking still, from the violent shocks of electricity that a terrible doctor had forced through him. His bottom lip twitched every now and then. While Roger just laid there on the bed, spread out and trembling terribly, Miss Ginny patiently waited for the effects to wear off. She knew better than to touch him or whisper something - that only made him even more frightened, and the shaking lasted longer. She sat on the chair in the room, patiently waiting for her little one to come back to his own body and receive the present she had for him.

It took a long time for Roger's jaw to unset and close, and for his spine to become less rigid to the point where he could sit up. The small boy tested his ability to move gingerly, turning his head to see his nurse. "M-Miss…Ginny…" he gasped unevenly. She went to him and took his hands, kissing his fingers lovingly. "I know, sweetie. I know it hurts. But you were so good today. You didn't fight them and you behaved so well. I'm proud of you, Roger. I really am." she told him. He heard every word, but couldn't respond. The pain rattled through him like sonar. He flopped back down onto the bed weakly. She remained holding his hands, telling him how good he was. He felt tired. He just wanted to go to sleep. Miss Ginny went to the cabinet and pulled something out. She hid it behind her back. "Before you fall asleep," she said gently. "I think you should have your present."

Roger had forgotten all about that promise. He blinked a few times, excited and surprised. Miss Ginny snuggled a soft, fuzzy teddy bear under his arm. "So you can have something to cuddle in the night." she told him with a smile. The corners of his lips twitched. He really enjoyed this. He really loved her. With trembling fingers, he stroked the plushy new toy. It was so incredibly soft. So new. He couldn't even remember the last time he was ever given a new toy. "Oh…Miss G-Ginny…" he whispered. "Thank you…s-so much…"

She grinned and planted a kiss on his forehead. She pulled him onto her lap with the teddy bear still in his arms and began to rock him ever so gently. It was his favorite sensation in the whole world - being rocked like that. Miss Ginny smiled lovingly at the little boy, who was exhausted, but beginning to feel more like himself. His eyes were half-closed. "Miss Ginny," he said hoarsely. "Is your lover ever going to marry you?" She smiled at his srtange question, but answered him nevertheless. "Well, I don't know, darling."

"Have you talked about it?"

"Just a bit. We've been dating for three years, but…well, I don't know. I'd love to be married to him. He's the best man in the world."

"I think he should make you his bride. You're so wonderful. You'd be a perfect…wife…"

Roger was getting sleepy now. He yawned. Miss Ginny couldn't help but break a smile one more time. "Before you drift off," she said. "Can I ask what made you think of that question?"

"Last night I had a dream about a wedding. Don't know whose it was, or why I was there. But it made me think today. Made me think of you. So I just wanted to know if you'd ever have a wedding some day."

"Oh, sweetie. I'm sure I will, I just don't know when."

"…Will I?"

Miss Ginny hugged him closer. "Oh yes you will, baby. It will be wonderful. You'll have the prettiest bride who will love you to no end. I promise. You'll have a wedding, Roger. And you'll have a happy life."

"Won't be here forever?"

"No! No, darling of course not. You won't be here forever at all. Not at all."

Roger nodded and let his eyes fall closed again. He liked when Miss Ginny would reassure him of stuff like that. It made him feel good - feel better about himself. He fell asleep in her arms with a smile on his face, despite the pain that was still coursing through his veins from the diabolical treatment he'd experienced.


	11. Chapter 11

Roger paced the floor back and forth nervously. Miss Ginny wasn't in his room like usual - she'd brought him breakfast and gave him 'good morning hugs', but then she said she was going to fetch a special visitor. She left the room. Of course she was smiling and seemed very excited. Roger however felt extremely nervous; he ran down a list of people that could be coming to see him. _Jack? No, he was just here two weeks ago. Another doctor? God, I hope not. Papa? …I'd take the doctor over him._

Roger continued pacing.

His fingers starting itching for something to do, so he picked up 'the thing' and stroked it gently. He looked all around him. Miss Ginny had given him a good, long, hot bath the night before, and made sure he brushed his teeth extra carefully that morning. He wondered why. Who was so important that he had to look perfect? Didn't they know he was so far from perfect it was painful?

The door clicked open. Roger stopped pacing.

He stood dead-still right where he was and watched as the door revealed his visitor. Miss Ginny stepped in first, flashing Roger a big smile that just seemed so full of excitement. She beckoned to someone outside the room. "Come in - he's waiting for you." she whispered to the person. Roger backed up slowly. He kept his eyes focused on the doorframe the whole time. Someone began walking inside, and Roger saw Miss Ginny extend her hands to them. She wrapped her arms around the arm of the visitor. "Roger, this is Charles. My boyfriend." she said.

The man wasn't bad looking at all. He was tall, had light-brown hair, green eyes, and his facial features appeared gentle. He looked kind, just like Miss Ginny. Charles stepped forward and extended a hand towards Roger, bending down a bit to get to his height. "So you're little Roger?" he asked softly. Roger instantly sensed that he was a very caring person. Still, instinctually, he hugged himself and let out a child-like whimper. He never took his eyes off that man. Charles turned to Miss Ginny, who gave him an encouraging nod. He looked back at the small boy. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard so many wonderful things." he continued. Roger looked from him to his nurse uneasily. She smiled and nodded. The boy uncurled himself from the tight stance he was in. Both adults seemed to relax a bit more as well. "There you go," Charles said with a gentle grin.

The man looked to his right at the neat little bed. "Hey, I recognize this little guy." he said as he stood up and scooped up the teddy bear. Roger gasped and extended his arms for it immediately. He didn't want anyone ruining his favorite toy. Charles put it into Roger's grasp. The boy yanked it close and gave it a protective hug. Miss Ginny went to Charles. "Charles was there when I picked the bear out for you. He helped me decide which one to choose." she explained. Roger knew this man wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him, but he had always struggled with trust issues. New people just frightened him.

Charles sat down on the bed when Miss Ginny guided him to do so. Roger sat on the floor directly in front of them (he didn't know why, but he just plopped down) and stared in awe. A long silence passed. After a while, Miss Ginny giggled. "What are you so intrigued with, baby?" she asked her patient. The dark-haired boy shrugged. "Y-You two look so happy together," he said. Charles grinned wide again. "Roger, that's so good. That's great. You did it," he commented. Miss Ginny too was smiling. The boy realized: he'd just come out and said a full sentence without hesitation to a stranger. He looked a bit surprised with himself, then let a ghost of a smile pass over his lips.

Miss Ginny got Roger to sit near Charles on the bed. The two got to talking a little bit, very short sentences and conversations, which absolutely thrilled her. She watched her two men get to know each other with loving eyes and a hopeful heart. For several days in a row, Charles kept coming back to see Roger. It was the only constant visitor the boy had. He would arrive in the morning, and usually leave before work in the afternoons. He'd eat lunch with Miss Ginny and Roger, something that they all began to look forward to. The dark-haired boy had really grown to like the man - they got to be good friends. Miss Ginny adored this. She knew it made her feel good, but her a patient a millions times better.

Roger was perched on his bed cross-legged in front of Charles, who was sitting the same way. Miss Ginny was cleaning up the lunch dishes. Every day that Charles was there, he'd do whatever Roger wanted - whether it was playing with 'the thing' and teddy bear or reading a book. That day, Roger had wanted to draw. So Charles and the boy took to coloring on separate sheets of paper with a box of crayons between them. They talked a bit sometimes, laughing as well. Music to Miss Ginny's ears. Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door and it opened. A sour-looking nurse stuck her head in. Roger stopped mid-sentence and gave a low growl upon seeing her. Charles was fascinated by this, the nurse, not too happy. She sneered at Roger and muttered "Little savage," under her breath. Roger bared his teeth. "Virginia," the nurse said, ending the little war between them. "Meeting in the conference room." Miss Ginny straightened her apron. "Oh, alright. I'll be there in just a minute. Don't let them start without me." she replied quickly. The nurse rolled her eyes and shut the door.

Miss Ginny went to the two artists and kissed the top of their heads. "I'll be back in an hour or two, alright? Apparently there's a meeting today that I didn't know about. Baby, Charles is going to stay here with you, alright? He'll be here the whole time - he doesn't have work today. So you be good until I get back, alright? I love the both of you very much." she assured. Charles squeezed her hand with a smile as she left the room. Roger cheerfully bid her goodbye.

Once the door shut, they went back to coloring. "I like Miss Ginny a lot," Roger said openly. Charles grinned. "I like Miss Ginny a lot too."

"Do you love her?"

"Of course I do. Why?"

"I was wondering. She loves you too."

"Yes, I know. We tell each other often."

"She talks about you all the time. Tells me how wonderful you are - you cook such delicious dinners for her, you buy her the prettiest jewelry, you respect her so much; all of that stuff. She always tells me. Always."

"Well I'm glad to hear that, Roger."

"Do you think you'll ever marry her?"

Charles paused and cocked his head. He put his red crayon down. "What made you think of that?" he asked. Roger shrugged, still coloring. "I had a dream a little while ago. I was at a wedding. I don't know whose it was or anything, but I do remember that it was lovely. Haven't been able to get it out of my mind since. And I think Miss Ginny would be a wonderful wife."

"Has she talked to you about it at all?"

"Oh yes. She says she really wants to get married someday. She told me once that she wants to have children too, but isn't sure if she'll be able to or not. Something about it running in her family. I don't know who runs in her family, but she's never said anything about races or anything, so it must not be her."

"Oh, you mean like genetics."

"I suppose. I didn't understand that part too well. But I do know that she loves you so much. She said she'd do absolutely anything for you. She'd be such a good wife. Are you going to marry her?"

"…Well…I…I've always been afraid to ask. I wasn't ever too sure if she loved me that much - you know, to spend the rest of her life with me."

"Trust me, she does. Will you ask her?"

"…I'll tell you what. We're going to keep a secret, alright? You can't tell her what I'm going to say to you now. Understand? Can you keep a secret?"

Roger felt a chill pass over him. He shuddered. "You don't even know," he murmured solemnly. Charles took his hands. Something made him realize that Roger was gravely telling the truth. "I'm going to surprise her, alright? I'll get a ring and I'll propose to her here. Right in front of you! So you can be there to watch, since you're so interested in love. But you can't tell her, or give any hints, alright? It has to be a pure surprise. Does that sound good?"

"Wonderful! When will you do it?"

"Sometime soon…but I have to get a ring fitted and everything. I'll give you a heads up beforehand, alright?"

Roger stopped coloring and looked up at the man. In his eyes were pools of hope, happiness, and admiration. He nodded. "Thank you," he whispered. "You're making both of us very happy." Charles smiled back at him gently. Suddenly, the little boy flung himself across the bed into his arms. The pair of bones that wrapped around his neck told Charles that he was being enveloped in a rare Roger-hug. He grinned as tears came to his eyes. He very gingerly hugged the small frame back. There was something about this boy that he'd come to love and be fascinated with. He found himself wanting to make both special people in his life happy.

Roger let himself go and be hugged by Charles. He felt so incredibly happy and relaxed that he was willing to express the emotion that he felt without even thinking about it - love. He didn't know why he liked Charles so much, and even though he knew he loved Miss Ginny, he didn't know where this new enchantment with relationships came from; why he wanted to see people come together and be happy. Perhaps it was because he never had that present in his life. Perhaps it was the absence of any real parent-figures in his life. Perhaps it was because he was abandoned without a scrap of love for so long, and now he was getting his fill. Whatever it was, he decided, he knew he wanted the two adults in his present life to be happy. Because to him, it felt like they were all one little family.


	12. Chapter 12

Some doctor decided (against Roger's and Miss Ginny's will) that Roger would need a dose of medication daily to regulate his hyperactive body. It was recently discovered that Roger's heartbeat, blood pressure, digestive system, and nervous system were working too fast for him to keep up with - - it was causing significant weight loss. Roger weighed so low already, and shedding more pounds only meant trouble health-wise for him. The medication he was injected with made him feel disoriented for a while and very sleepy. Miss Ginny was required to give it to him. She hated holding him down on the bed and listening to him whimper softly to himself as she pushed the needle into his delicate little forearm. He would cry for a long time after, clearly not because of the shot but just in despair in general. She hated it. Absolutely hated it.

One day after the medication routine, Miss Ginny wouldn't play with Roger like usual. Typically, whenever he'd color or play with 'the thing' and his teddy bear, she would join in to make him more comfortable. But that day, she was just sitting near him, watching. There wasn't a cheerful smile. No talking. Just sitting. Roger caught on after a while and begged to know what was wrong. She would sadly smile at him, replying that everything was perfectly fine, but he didn't believe her. Suddenly, he panicked. "Is something wrong between you and Charles?" he asked in fear. She shook her head and gave a genuine smile this time. "No, no, darling. We're doing absolutely wonderful. He made dinner for me last night, and he brought up the topic of getting married. It dropped fast though, but still, it was a new discussion. It's never happened before." she answered thoughtfully. Roger grinned. Charles was keeping his promise.

Suddenly Miss Ginny glanced up at the clock that hung on the wall. She grabbed Roger's tiny hand. "Come darling. We must go," she said quickly, practically pulling him off the bed. Roger didn't particularly like this, this roughness and urgency that wasn't being explained. He tried to resist out of instinct. Miss Ginny pulled him. "Please, darling." she begged. "Please come with me." The terror in her voice worried her patient, so he hesitantly allowed for himself to be carried off the bed. Miss Ginny shifted him into her arms and walked briskly down the hallways. She brought him outside.

Roger hadn't been outside since he was admitted to the hospital. She then put him down, holding his hand as they walked the sidewalk of a nice garden area. The grass was green. The trees blossomed. The air smelled sweet. Roger gasped and looked around. Miss Ginny seemed a bit calmer, but kept looking behind her. "It's so beautiful here," he whispered. There were other patients walking around, some sitting on benches or wheelchairs. Roger didn't have any shoes on. Just his pajama-like clothes. He and Miss Ginny circled the area of the little garden countless times in silence.

Finally, Roger found the voice to speak to her. "Miss Ginny, why are we here?"

"Because…because I'm protecting you, darling." she answered almost sadly.

"Protecting me from what? I feel safe."

"You were scheduled to go to shock therapy this evening at six o'clock. I don't want you going. It doesn't help you. It sets you back - - you go from using complete sentences to speaking in bursts again. You go from good posture to cringing at every single noise. You lose your appetite. You can't sleep. You're in pain. I can't have that."

"…I'm sorry, Miss Ginny."

"No, no, no. Don't you think for one moment that it's your fault, baby. You can't control it. It's the therapy that does that, not you. I'm…I'm trying to protect you from it."

Roger stopped to dig a small weed out of the grass with his toes. He wouldn't look up. "So I figured that…well…they can't torture you if they can't find you. That's why we left the room. So they won't find you." she went on. Roger nodded gravely. He squeezed her hand tighter. He couldn't even express how grateful to her he was. But Miss Ginny seemed to know this already, and responded by giving him a kiss on the cheek.

They stayed out in the garden for a long time - - until they were the last ones left. It was dark outside now. Miss Ginny led her patient quietly through the halls again and into his room. She tucked him into bed and laid there with him as always; stroking his hair, telling him a story, humming softly, holding his hand. Roger let his eyes drift closed as he thought about how lucky he was to have such an intelligent nurse. Someone so brave, yet so loving. Just as he was about to fall completely asleep, the door burst open. Miss Ginny sat up immediately and looked at the light that was streaming in through the blinding space - - streaming into what used to be peaceful darkness. "Where is he?!" A man's voice thundered. Miss Ginny panicked right then. She threw her arms around the sleepy boy who was scrambling onto his elbows. A doctor hit the light switch, causing everyone to squint at the harsh beams. "You think you can hide him? Hide him away from everyone? The world? You want to protect this _monster?_" The doctor lashed out and grabbed Roger's little foot, yanking him off the edge of the bed. Roger cried out in pain and fear.

Miss Ginny leapt up and sprang at the doctor who was now pinning Roger's hands above his head and dragging him by his arms out the door. She weakly tried to tear his muscular grasp away from her patient, tears flowing down her face. "_Please_ don't do this to him! Oh, _please_! It hurts him! It terrifies him! Please don't _torture him anymore!_" she begged in screams. The doctor held Roger up by his arms. "I don't care how much you beg or try to steal him away! I can perform this treatment at any hour - - be that seven in the morning, noon, or in the middle of the night! And what I say goes!"

"You don't understand anything! You don't know him! He's not your patient! He's mine! You're…you're a blaspheming _idiot_ in a doctor's coat!"

Suddenly the doctor reached out and smacked Miss Ginny right across the cheek. Roger gasped. He stared with wide eyes and an agape mouth. She breathed hard, feeling the sting on her face. The doctor was seething. "Don't you _ever_ use such disrespect on me again! You are a woman, and your job is to do what I say! _Understand me?!_" he shouted. Miss Ginny nodded slowly, still in shock.

Roger would have none of this.

He swung his foot out and kicked the man in the hip, then bit the hand that tried to swat at him. He clawed. Scratched. Gnawed. Ripped. Kicked. Thrashed. Punched. Images of a beast…a small little beastie being murdered right in his hands came flashing back through his memory. There'd been no beast then. But there was one now. And it was society. Society was the one that labeled him "insane". Society was the one that locked him up. Society was the one that decided his torture. Society was the one that set rules that he would have to obey or be rejected.

Society was the one that abused the good people like Miss Ginny and…_Simon_…who only tried to help him.

Roger felt himself crying hysterically. He didn't know he was sad, but the tears were endless. He also didn't realize that he was being fought back. Roger lost the battle with the man, and ended up sitting in the chair again with all the wires attached to him. This torture lasted longer and hurt far more than usual. When he was brought back to his room, Miss Ginny found so many bruises and open cuts on his poor body. He was stunned from the shocks still. She treated his wounds tenderly, crying softly to herself as she thought about his circumstances, his circumstances, their circumstances together.

She had to get him out of here.


	13. Chapter 13

Charles came back the next day to visit Roger and his love. Miss Ginny stepped out of the room to go fetch another vial of medicine which was to be injected into the boy, so Charles crawled onto the bed and dug something out of his pocket. Roger drew his attention up from the teddy bear he was pretending to feed from an invisible plate and an invisible spoon. In the man's hand was a small dark blue box. He opened it. A beautiful diamond ring sparkled inside. "I'm going to do it today. I figured you'd like to see it happen. Want to hear my plan? It involves a very special little boy!" he said. Roger put down the teddy bear and crawled onto Charles' lap. The man rocked him gently, knowing that he was eager to hear about it. "I'm going to ask her to read a story with us. I already brought the book with me. I actually wrote it myself to make it sound like a children's story, but at the end it has a twist, and that's where I'll propose. Want to do it?" Roger nodded in excitement. "Now, now, now!" he begged. Charles laughed. "As soon as she gets back, alright? As soon as she gets back."

When Miss Ginny reentered the room, Roger went back to 'feeding' his teddy bear. She seemed a bit upset as she looked at the vials of liquid in her hand. "Everything alright, love?" Charles asked. She nodded absently. "I just…I just hate this part of my job. He doesn't need all this medication. It only makes him feel worse. But they don't listen to me." She was half-talking to herself, half-talking to her lover. He nodded understandingly. "Perhaps you'd like to just take a break and come read with us? Roger said he'd like to hear a story. I brought one from home." Miss Ginny sighed. "Alright. Just for a moment though. If they come in and see his medication isn't injected they'll - - "

"Dear, please. It's alright. It'll all be alright. Just relax."

"Alright. Sometimes the people here just make me so nervous. What's the story we're reading?"

"Well, it's one I wrote myself."

Miss Ginny sat on the bed with them. Roger snuggled in between them comfortably. "Darling," his nurse asked. "Did you know that Charles writes stories? He's written several. I've read them all of course. Someday we must get him to publish them, alright?" Roger giggled excitedly. Charles pulled the book out. "Here we go," he said. "Virginia, I'll start on the first page, then you read on the second one. Roger, there's a special page that I'll have you say. But I'll tell you when it's your turn. Everyone ready?"

Charles opened the cover. He'd illustrated the pages too. "Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful maiden in a faraway land. She had gorgeous honey hair and a kind heart. Everyone loved how kind she was." he read. When he turned the page, he looked to Miss Ginny.

"One day, the maiden was walking down the streets of the village, and a man accidentally bumped into her. The man dropped his briefcase and all of his important papers fell everywhere. Hey, this sounds bit familiar…" she noticed, smirking at Charles. That particular scene was how their relationship began. He turned the page.

"The maiden helped him clean up everything and asked if he was alright. They talked for a while and decided to make a date. They dated for a very long time. She took on a job that involved caring for a young little boy. She loved him very much. The world had been very mean to the little boy and crushed his spirits. Alright, Roger. Your turn," Charles whispered as he turned the page. Roger looked it over.

"But the maiden took good care of him. She made him feel better inside and out. He could talk again, and do things by himself. She brought him toys when he was lonely, bathed him when he needed to relax, and fed him anything he wanted - - even respecting how he...didn't want any…meat. He knew this woman was very special, and after meeting wither her lover, he encouraged him to reveal his secret identity to her." Roger read aloud, nice and clear.

Charles patted his shoulder. "So the man decided to make it a very special revealing. He took the little boy and the maiden together, telling them that he was actually a prince. He told them how much he loved them both, and he asked the maiden…" Charles looked to Miss Ginny as he turned the page.

She smiled. "'Will you be my princess?'" Suddenly, the words dawned on her. Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. She looked over at him immediately. Charles held out the box to her, opening it slowly to reveal the sparkling diamond. He took the line from the next page. "And she answered him with…?" Miss Ginny had tears rolling down her cheeks. She covered her mouth with both dainty hands. Nodding, she breathlessly whispered, "Yes…yes…yes!" Roger clapped excitedly as they shared a kiss. Charles slipped the beautiful ring on her finger, the boy watching in awe. The man shared many more kisses with her. After a while, Roger giggled at the heartfelt situation. The couple looked at him and also shared a laugh. Charles held up his finger. "Wait - - the story's not over yet." he said. He turned the page.

"After the maiden agreed to become a princess, she told them man that she was afraid she'd never be able to bear him little princes and princesses in the future, but she wanted children badly. So the prince decided to take the little boy she loved and cared for into their home. He suggested that on the day of the wedding, there'd be two celebrations - - one for the prince and princess' marriage, and the other for their welcoming a child into the family." he read. It was Roger's turn to gasp.

Miss Ginny was crying uncontrollable tears of happiness now, letting everything go all at once. She took Roger's hands into hers. "Oh, my baby. My baby is mine. Oh…" she murmured over and over. Roger suddenly felt an overwhelming happiness wash over him as he felt two pairs of adult arms wrap around him. "We're all one family now," Charles whispered. "and that's how it's going to stay forever."

Miss Ginny, Roger, and Charles all read the last line of the book together, all with tears in the eyes and choked voices of happiness. "The prince took his princess and their new son to the palace, where they lived happily ever after. The end." Roger clapped gleefully when the book was closed. The lovers shared more kisses and held the boy's hands close to them. At one point, Miss Ginny and Charles both leaned down and each kissed Roger's cheek at the same time. He was thrilled by this, squirming his little body and giggling at the feeling. Miss Ginny allowed herself to be held by Charles for the longest time. She held Roger in her lap, letting him touch the diamond and stare in awe at it the whole time. "Happily every after," she repeated. Charles kissed her cheek. "The end," he whispered. The new family stayed snuggled up, enjoying 'the end' of the confusion and heartbreak and the 'once upon a time' of the rest of their lives together.


	14. Chapter 14

Roger sat on the bed across from Jack, telling him all about the proposal and how he was going to be part of a family again. The redhead smiled his crooked grin. "I'm so happy for you, Roge. Things are really turning around for you here." he said. Roger nodded, stroking 'the thing' in his fingers and letting the teddy bear sit in his lap. His smile died after a few seconds. It looked like he wanted to say something. "Jack?" he asked, voice now strained and soft. The redhead leaned a little closer. Roger looked at his lap. "Does surgery hurt?"

Jack froze. Where did this question come from? He used his hand to gently tilt Roger's cheek up so that they could meet eyes. "Why do you ask me that, darling?" he inquired, a little worried. Roger shrugged. He averted his eyes again. "The bad doctor said I need surgery. On my brain. Because my brain is sick. Does it hurt?" he repeated. Jack let his hand drop. He was completely and utterly shocked. The doctors wanted to do a frontal lobe surgery on him. They didn't believe he was getting better. They didn't want him to be naturally happy. "Why…why are they doing this?" he whispered, throat becoming instantly dry. Roger shrugged yet again. "He told me that I was a killer." His voice dropped down low. "I think they found out about…"

Although he never finished his sentence, Jack knew exactly who he was talking about.

Roger shivered and hugged himself. "Miss Ginny doesn't know. She doesn't know they want to cut me open. I think she'd have a fit if they told her. We'd probably run away. But they haven't said anything. I'm scared." Jack took Roger into his arms to rock him gently. "I'll make sure nothing happens to you," he murmured absently. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that these doctors didn't see how good the boy was being. How well-behaved he turned out to be. How happy he was with his current life. Roger shivered yet again. "It's going to hurt…" he whimpered. Jack squeezed him tighter, trying to look like the brave one even though he knew he wasn't. "I'll…protect you. F-From…the _beastie_." he whispered. Roger broke into a thousand tears right then and there.

Jack hugged him for a long time wondering where something had gone wrong. He knew they were medicating him. He knew he'd attacked a few doctors and nurses in the past. He knew they'd been giving him shock therapy. He didn't know why they decided to take such extreme measures now. "Why, Jackie?" Roger murmured, sniffling tremendously. Jack shook his head slowly. "Because they want a quick fix to get you out of here as soon as possible. They just want a quick…_impersonal_…fix…" he whispered. His voice broke by the end. "They don't know you, Roge. They don't understand you like Miss Ginny and I do. And Charles."

"That's why I like you three and not them. They don't show me love. They treat me like I'm an animal."

Jack rocked him gently again. "Shhh…it'll be alright. Once Miss Ginny finds out about this, she'll put an end to it right away. I promise. Charles too - - he'll help her. You won't need surgery. We won't let that happen to you."

Roger let out a heartbreaking sob. He wanted to believe his friend. He really did. But he wasn't sure if this was actually something that could be fought, considering these doctors were relentless enough to sometimes drag him out of his bed in the middle of the night while he was sleeping to do shock therapy treatment. They knew how to get around Miss Ginny's protection. He let Jack hold onto him tightly as he clung to 'the thing' and his teddy bear. "It's going to hurt…" he whimpered again.


	15. Chapter 15

Charles stopped by a few days later to talk to the boys about the wedding plans and ideas. "Miss Ginny said she'd like the flowers to be a pastel shade of purple. Do you like that too? I think it'd be just lovely." he carried on. But Roger wasn't listening too closely. He was preoccupied with the other things on his mind. He had the teddy bear under his arm, 'the thing' curled in his fingers, and a tiny white stuffed bunny (which Charles had brought him that day) resting on his knee. It was supposed to symbolize the white of the wedding. The new beginnings. Charles noticed how quiet the usually excited boy was acting. "Is everything alright, dear?" he asked. Roger instantly reached out for his hand. "I-I…I can't tell you…" he whimpered, remembering how his doctor had threatened a hanging if he mentioned anything about the surgery to "the saviors that were trying to protect him from the world". Charles held Roger closer to him. "Darling," he murmured as he furrowed his eyebrows together. "You can tell me anything. We're a family. We don't have to keep things from each other."

"I'm not allowed to tell…"

"Whoever told you that?"

"The doctor."

Charles seemed upset at the very mention of that word. "What did he do to you?" he asked lowly. Roger could tell from his tone that he was willing to put up a fight against anything the doctor would try. "He…he said I'm going to have surgery." Roger whimpered. "On my brain. He says I'm still bad. My brain is bad. So he's going to take out the not nice parts so that I can be good again."

"When did he tell you this?"

"Just a few days ago. The morning that Jack came to visit me."

"…Well let me tell you something, love. I will not let him get his hands on you. Or your brain. I'm…I'm going to free you."

It seemed as if something sparked inside of Charles right then and there. "Yes, I'm going to free you. I'm going to get you out of here for good." he affirmed. Roger sniffled. He was all tucked in close to his new adoptive father, wrapped safely in his arms. "Miss Ginny doesn't know…" he whispered. Charles nodded. "Then it'll only work out better. Just give me some time to think through things, Roge. And then…then you'll be totally free."

**X x X**

Charles walked through the entrance of the asylum just a few days later, packet of papers in his hand. He purposely hadn't shaved that morning and let his hair go instead of being neatly parted to the side. All part of the plan. He approached the reception desk. "Excuse me, Miss?" he asked the young woman sitting behind the counter. She looked pretty new - - he hadn't seen her around before. "I'm here to pick up my son, Roger." he reported. The woman shuffled through some paperwork to give herself time to think. Finally, she decided on an answer. "I'm sorry, sir. But we can't release a patient unless they have had special clearance by the doctors. Have you received any notice in the mail?"

Charles pulled out the first page of his packet. "Actually," he said with a smile. "I have," As the nurse took the paper from him and scanned it, he felt butterflies rise in his stomach. _Please just send it through…_ he thought desperately. After what seemed like ages, she nodded. "Alright. I'll need your information first. Are you his biological father and what is your name?"  
"I'm Charles Emmett. And no, I'm not his birth father."

"You adopted him?"

"Yes, I did. He was under my care for two straight years. Then I sent him on the plane to the all-children's home outside of England while the bombings were severe, and he was on the plane that crashed into the remote island."

"He's the killer."

"He's my son."

"…I'll need to see your legal documentation first."

Charles handed her pages two through four of his packet. She looked over it very briefly, to Charles relief, and put them aside. Clearly she had no idea how to read any of it. All part of the plan. "You've got the legalities worked out and our letter of release. I'll go back and get him." she said. Charles took a seat in the grim waiting area, praying that no one who knew him would walk by.

A few minutes later, Charles heard a tussle occurring down the hall. He knew who was coming. The woman who worked behind the counter let out a yelp of pain as she dragged a tiny little boy into view. Her neatly bunned hair was now a mess, and she rubbed her wrist to calm the sting of a bitemark. When Roger saw Charles, he let out a little gasp. "Do you recognize your adoptive father?" she asked through gritted teeth. Roger took a moment, then nodded slowly. He seemed to have figured out the entire scheme in less than four seconds. He actually played along well. He pretended to be timid near Charles, reaching out a few times to touch him as if in disbelief. "It's me, darling." Charles cooed gently. "I'm coming to take you back to our home." Roger looked around, then nodded silently.

The receptionist held out a release form in front of Charles. "Once your signature is on this form, he's free. Sign right there for me, and initial there, and then sign one more time." she instructed, pointing as best she could with scratched-up hands. Charles quickly scrawled his name on the first line. Roger immediately tugged at his coat, whimpering. "What's the matter, love?" he asked. He followed Roger's terrified stare off into the distance.

The doctor was charging down the hall.

He seemed to be in blistering fury. "Stop him, Josephine!" he shouted. "Don't let him sign that!" The woman looked up at Charles suspiciously. He wrote as fast as he possibly could to get the signatures out of the way and have this all be done with. Roger cried out when the doctor threw himself over the counter and seized a corner of the document. Charles panicked. He scribbled his final signature onto the line as the paper was ripped away from him, leaving a long line of ink trailing down to the bottom. He instantly dropped the pen after. Charles grabbed Roger and hugged him protectively. "He's mine! It's signed and done! He's mine! He's free! You can't touch him!" he shouted.

The doctor was red. "How could this happen?! He doesn't even have a family at all! They're all dead! No one has ever come for him!" he raged. Josephine just shrugged following the dialogue with her eyes between the two men. The doctor pointed at Charles as he grabbed all the documentation. "That thing can't leave without being treated!" he hollered. Charles kissed Roger's cheek which was wet with terrified tears. "I've got all the treatment he needs." he said. He gathered Roger up into his arms. "Come, darling. We're going home." he murmured.

Even though the angry doctor continued arguing, Charles simply walked out of the building with his new son. They stayed silent the whole time until they reached a bench, which they sat upon. "It's alright, dear." Charles cooed. "You're out of there forever."

"B-But…how…?"

"I worked some magic. That's all. It's hard to understand."

"M-My things…"

"Miss Ginny will bring them when she comes home today. I doubt she'll ever be allowed to return there again, so she'll pack up anything you might've left behind."

When Miss Ginny arrived home that night, she immediately went to asking questions. A thousand things flooded out of her mouth at once. Roger was already fast asleep on the couch (where he'd be sleeping until they could get him a bed to put into the spare room). Charles sat her down at the kitchen table and took her hands. "My dear," he murmured. "It's a difficult feeling that I'm experiencing right now. I'm proud of my work, but also I'm not. I did the right thing, but the wrong thing as well. You see…I copied the adoption certificate. It's not real. I bought a false one from someone and filled in all the correct information. Same with the release letter from the asylum - - my cousin had one from when her daughter visited once. Again, I copied and filled in the correct words. I know that what I did was wrong and scandalous, but I don't regret doing it because I know Roger's safe with us now. And until we get his real adoption documentation, then we'll just pretend for him that it was all true." he explained, hanging his head. Miss Ginny squeezed his hands.

He was surprised to look up and see a smile on her face.

She took a deep breath. "Honestly," she began. "I would've done the same thing." The pair shared a laugh. "I guess that's why we're getting married," Charles said. The two looked at the child that peacefully rested on his little space, snuggled under a quilt. They glanced at each other, then simultaneously stood up and went to his side. Charles scooped the little boy into his arms. Miss Ginny tucked the blanket around him closer and carried his two favorite toys into their bedroom. He was laid down right in the middle with his beloved objects with just enough room for each adult to sleep on a side. As he settled into his new position, he wrapped his arms around his teddy bear and 'the thing'. "I love you, Mummy and Daddy…" he murmured.

Miss Ginny put a hand over her heart. It was the first time she'd ever been called that. And it coming from her favorite little child made it all the more special.

Charles wrapped an arm around her, feeling equally as proud to be a parent. They watched as their new tiny son slept, buried under a sheet, a quilt, and a comforter, clinging to an old teddy bear and a feather duster.

Neither had ever seen a more perfect sight.


End file.
